


Is there ever such a thing as too much preparation?

by Coraleeveritas



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 03:54:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10296878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coraleeveritas/pseuds/Coraleeveritas
Summary: Renly and Loras are getting married. Brienne and Margaery are the joint maids of honour, meaning enjoyable Saturday mornings are now a thing of the past for Brienne.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't think I'd end up with an entry for meet cute March, judging by how I'm still struggling with my Valentine's fic, but this one sprung to life after I had my first facial last week (which I hated, btw).
> 
> Thank you to RoseHeart and Sandwiches for all their support and feedback :)
> 
> As always, anything you recognise does not belong to me. I'm just borrowing characters to let them meet over and over again for the first time.

The next time Margaery suggested a 'fun' Saturday morning activity she was just going to say no, Brienne firmly decided as they were led across the shop floor by the pretty blonde hostess, the girl indicating where they should sit to wait for their individual beauty therapists. The cream sofa was much too soft for Brienne's liking, making it feel like she was sinking into a mattress of marshmallow, her long limbs crying out for support as Margaery gracefully sank down beside her.

"Can I get you anything in the meantime?" the girl asked while they struggled with their winter coats, the question clearly rehearsed as the accompanying smile barely reached her eyes. As Margaery made pleasant small talk and checked the drinks menu, Brienne tried not to grit her teeth and think about the hockey game she was missing in order to spend some time with her new friend before the wedding where they were sharing the role of maid of honour. Loras, Margaery's brother, might not have liked that his fiancé wanted his ugly childhood best friend in all their photos but he hadn't complained too much about dropping the pair off for the appointment in town. It did mean, though, that Brienne didn't have an easy escape route should things spiral out of control, like she was expecting. Maybe if her teenage years hadn't been full of sports and solitude, her early growth spurt doing her no favours when it came to making friends, rather than sleepovers and shopping then a pamper day wouldn't have filled her with so much dread, immediately feeling out of place amongst the attractively overdone young women milling around.

Although Margaery was doing her best to put her mind at ease, passing over a glass of recently delivered pink champagne while talking Brienne through the treatments on offer, fully focused on the wonders of hydrating face masks and eyeliner, even with her friend's soothing voice ringing in her ears she could do little more than nervously spin the expensively embossed gold appointment card between her fingers. On the back, she'd noticed that the name 'Jaime' had been left in swooping cursive, a tiny heart drawn where a dot should have been, making her picture a tiny, tanned brunette with a thick Dornish accent who would unsuccessfully attempt to dance around Brienne's obvious shortcomings. She knew her hair was brittle, her lips cracked and dry, her skin paler than pale underneath a blanket of freckles and no amount of kind words or overpriced products were going to change any of that. Lying only ever made it worse.

"Do you need any help with the menu?" Margaery asked as if they were at a fancy Valyrian restaurant, still flipping through the scarlet pages. "Don't worry about the prices, Grandmother is covering the whole thing under the umbrella of 'wedding prep' so you can be as extravagant as you want."

"That's not what-"

"Margie?" An older version of the blonde who met them at the door suddenly appeared from behind the scenes, shrieking as she ran across the hard wood flooring as fast as her heels would carry her. "If I'd realised you were coming in so early, I would have called. We're so short staffed today I had to call in the cavalry."

"No?!" Margaery gasped as she jumped to her feet. While they hugged hello, Brienne realised that since the blonde didn't wear a name tag like the rest of the staff, she must be the owner of the salon and that alone made her feel a little more on edge. There was clearly something they were keeping from her. "I thought he was working with the special effects team on Seven Swords until the spring."

"They had to break early for Winterfest because of avalanches," the young woman explained, her green eyes wide with excitement. "Your friend won't mind, will she?"

"Won't mind what?" Brienne interrupted sharply, ready to donate the five hundred dragons to a better cause than her own face and walk the ten miles home if that's what it took to get out of the increasingly cloying atmosphere.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie, but that's Jaime," Margaery pointed into the corridor between beauty treatment rooms, Brienne's mouth flapping open and closed like a fish as a man better suited to the front cover of GQ came into focus. It was bad enough when she thought a girl would be giving her beauty advice, never mind the most attractive man in the whole of Westeros. This day really couldn't get any worse. "We could just grab some brunch, come back next week?"

Brienne sighed, her teammates would kill her if she missed the regional quarter finals next weekend. If there was no way she could get out of this, and she really had been considering dozens of ways to excuse herself, she'd rather not prolong the agony any longer. Maybe she could even cheat and ask him for a shoulder massage to ease the knot of tension that had been there since mid week. "He'll be fine. There's not much I want doing."

"You sure?"

"As I'll ever be," Brienne murmured under her breath, catching sight of Jaime striding closer and closer out of the corner of her eye.

"Gods," he breathed as he ran his eyes from her forehead to waist, taking the time to study each and every inch like there was more to Brienne than the sum of her mismatched parts. "Finally something interesting. I've been here two days and I'm already bored to tears. There's no challenge in making a pretty girl look like a snow princess. But you...what do you press?"

Brienne narrowed her eyes, unsure as to whether she should instantly react to the insult lurking in his odd introduction. "Two-eighty."

He whistled in near appreciation as she unfolded her legs and stretched up to her full height, looking over his shoulder to address the two women still hovering within earshot. "I'm sure we're going to get along fine so why don't you two let us get on with it." He nodded at Brienne, extending an arm. "After you, Freckles."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :)


End file.
